Minou Noir
by I love you - Flower
Summary: Love Language: Speaking. Speaking in a different language, to your partner, is a turn-on. Will that be the same with two strangers to love, or will it end in bittersweet rejection. She speaks French. Love Language: Touching. Touching in sensitive places, to your partner, is a turn-on. Will the touch be out of pleasure or for-shadowing pain. He touches. One-shot!


It was a day of great passion in the air because it was Valentine's Day after all. Couples were exchanging gifts and kisses, except one very pissed pussy. He was waiting on the annoying, loud mouth, idiot he secretly loved. There was just something about her that he had never seen and found himself interested in her. It could be that she is the first girl not to swoon at his feet, or maybe it was because the first time they met, she showed him her panties, and got the name 'Polka'. Whatever it was, he was waiting for her.

She had promised him chocolates and he wanted his chocolate, even though he didn't like sweets; go figure.

Speaking of his idiot, she was still in French class talking to herself, practicing what she would say in French when she gave him her gift. It was pretty easy to say, it was only, "To my Black kitty, Happy Valentine's day!" only in French; so, it would say, "Pour mon Minou noir, joyeuse Saint-Valentin!"

Her minou noir had said how much he likes it when she talks in French, even if it was through pants and muffled by her hair. She walked out of the classroom, repeating it over and over again until it become like a second nature to her. She walked aimlessly toward his class, where she found him, asleep.

She slowly made her way to where his was, "Pour mon Minou noir, joyeuse Saint-Valentin." She whispered and blew in to his ear. To tell you he woke with a start would be an understatement. He let lose a moan after he had grabbed her and put her into his lap, his nuzzled her nape. She shivered, her hands trembled as she placed black box with red ribbon down on his desk.

They started cuddling and making each other show just how much they love each other. He would have to touch her to get a satisfied moan out of her, while she only had to grid into him and say something, even anything, in French to get a very satisfied moan.

Suddenly, she was under him on the bench, in one swift move. Her surprised shriek transformed into her biting her lower lip to suppress a loud moan of pleasure when he slowly unbuttoned her shirt and lightly trailed his tongue down her sternum. He bit the edge of the bra playfully, jolting from side to side, disclosing his true intention. He slid her bra straps down off of her shoulders, leaving a trail of goose bumps in his wake.

Her trembling hands rows and started to unbutton his shirt, reveling his muscular torso. Her shivering fingers lightly danced a top his skin, triggering a low, loud moan of approval. Her fingers gave him the sensation of raindrops descending down his buff chest. He was straddling her hips with his thighs and his forearms were braced against the bench-sit, on either side of her head, lying on top of her.

He nestled at her neck, again, nibbling and biting, leaving love bits in his path of pleasure. Her hands were lifeless at her side were now braced on the edges of the bench as she bucked her hips, grinding into his hips, in pleased manner; instigating a moan from the both of them.

The high was bittersweet as it ended as it had begun: whispers of French echoed metallic of off the walls, giving him more pleasure in what he was doing. Alas, he had to stop, giving the girl a horrifying holt to her pure bliss. She emitted a whimper in protest and soon he was whispering into her ear while slipping her a spare key to his room to finish what they started.

He pulled her up to meet his lips in a promising kiss to be bribe for her to come to his room later that night, and that she did.

Her brunette hair was down and messy. Her chocolate eyes were shining with love, but it was also her first time and she had some ideas. Once she entered, she would never exit the same for a bit of her, taken, given to him and a piece of him, taken, given to her. Over her shoulder was a bag filled with toys and goodies for the night and main event. As she entered, the name plaque by the door side "Natsume Hyuuga, Special Star."

As soon as the door was closed she was pinned to the door by him and the process commenced, where he breathed her name, the breath of his very being, "Mikan." She moaned and the night carried on, ending with neither of them getting the sleep they both rightfully deserve.


End file.
